Girl to Come Home To (11 page)

“The boys won’t be down for a while,” he said as he went out. “Let them sleep as long as they want to. They’ve had to do a lot of getting up early over there in the war. I’ll be back by the time they want to use the car.”

Kathie flashed a twinkle of a smile at her father. She knew what he was going out for, although she couldn’t imagine how he was going to work it. Sometimes there were things that only Dad could accomplish. Things that were difficult, yet Dad could always manage to get them done without definitely offending anyone.

As he drove down the street into the glory of the morning, he began to think over the night before, and it gave him great comfort that a girl like Beryl Sanderson had come to their home and seemed to be so glad to be there and to like his boys and his girl so much. He thought it all over, recalled the lovely smile she wore, the sweet unspoiled look of her, the happy way in which she entered into the conversation, the reverent way she bowed her head during the blessing at the table, with not a trace of sneer on her lovely face afterward. She had stayed for the evening and entered into the family life as if she had been one of them, as if she had real sympathy for the things they liked and did and said. And Mother liked her, too. He always knew when Mother liked a girl. Yes, she was the right kind. How was it that her boys hadn’t found Beryl before? He recalled also that he had met her father a few years ago and liked his attitude on certain questions in the presbytery. He was a right-minded man. On the whole Beryl Sanderson had made a good impression on Father Graeme, and he hoped in his soul they would see more of her. She was like a breath of fresh air in a stifling atmosphere, after that other girl with the bleached hair that Rod used to go with. He prayed in his heart that they would not have to see more of her. Well, of course they said she was married now, but that didn’t seem to mean a thing in these days when there were almost as many divorces as marriages. He hoped with all his heart that his two sons had not come to feel lightly about marriage.

Thinking these thoughts, he soon arrived at his destination, a place to which he did not often go, the hotel where Louella Chatterton was staying for the present.

He parked his car and went to the desk, asked if Mrs. Chatterton was in, and being told that she was, sent up his name. He was informed that she would presently come down, as she was planning a trip to the city that morning, so he sat himself down to wait, well knowing that he must have patience, for he had had experience in waiting for Louella before and knew that she would not hasten.

When she arrived he made haste to come toward the elevator to meet her. “Good morning, Louella. I hope I didn’t interrupt you seriously, but I shall not keep you long. I came to ask you for my house key, which I loaned you over a year ago, you remember. And now the time has come when I need it, so I thought I would stop by and get it.”

Now Louella made her mind up that he had come to invite her to dinner perhaps, and she had come down all smiles. The dinners at the Graemes’ were always good and cost her nothing. So the little matter of a latchkey did not interest her. The interest when out of her eyes.

“A key?” she said meditatively. “Oh yes, a key. I believe you did give me a key. I thought of course you meant me to keep it. Let me see, what did I do with that key? I think I may have brought it east with me. I’m not sure. I’ll have to look through my things and see.” Louella gave an obvious glance toward the clock as if she had no time now to look it up.

“Oh, yes, you brought it with you,” said Father Graeme. “You used it to open our door the night the boys came home and walked right into the dining room, don’t you remember?”

“Did I? But no, I think you are mistaken. I think the door was not locked.”

“Yes, the door was locked, Louella. We always lock it at night, and we heard the key in the lock before you came in. I’m sorry to ask you to go back upstairs and get it now if you are in a hurry to go out, but I really need that key this morning.”

“Oh!” said Louella with annoyance in her voice. “What’s the hurry? Wouldn’t it do if I brought it over this evening?”

“Sorry, no, Louella, I need it this morning. Would you like to have me go up to your room and try to find it for you? I really want it now, if you please.”

“Oh, no, of course not,” snapped Louella. “But wait! Maybe I have it in my purse.”

She opened her man-size purse of bright red she was carrying under her well-tailored arm and rummaged through it, and there right in the compartment with her change was the key, just where her cousin was sure she would find it.

“Well, of course, here it is, if you must have it, but I shall feel rather lost without it. Giving this up makes me feel that I have no family anymore.” She managed a break in her voice. “But—how long will you need it? Perhaps I can call tomorrow and get it again. Will you be through with it by that time?”

“I’m afraid not, Louella. My family is all home now, and we need our keys. But I am sure you will always be able to get into the house if you ring the bell or even knock. Thank you, Louella, and now I won’t keep you any longer. You have a nice day for your city trip. Have a good time. Good-bye.” And Father Graeme lifted his hat and bowed himself out. Louella looked after him angrily and began at once to plan how she could get that key back. Perhaps she could bribe Hetty to give her her key. The very idea! Give a servant a key and take it away from a blood relation, at least a relation by marriage!

There was no denying that Louella was very much upset about that key, and she decided to get it back at the first possible moment. As she climbed into the bus that would take her to her lawyer’s in the city, her mind was occupied with the problem of how to get that key back, and also incidentally to get a little more information concerning the doings of the Graeme boys.

The best way to do that would be to go there this afternoon and get Margaret by herself. She could always get things out of Margaret Graeme if she worked it in the right way. She was sure she could get that key. Margaret was softhearted, and if she showed that she was really hurt by not having that key she was sure she could get it.

So she hurried through her business with her lawyer and took the return bus that would go by the Graeme house. That would not waste so much time.

So, Margaret Graeme, fresh from a nap, and her heart at rest because her two boys were at home, took her sewing and went downstairs to sit by the library fire and wait for her family to drift back from their various wanderings and interests. She was no sooner comfortably seated than the doorbell rang twice, sharply, aggrievedly, and Margaret sat placidly as she heard Hetty go in a leisurely lope to the front door.

“Well, you decided to come at last, did you?” came Louella’s sharp, faultfinding voice. “Where were you? Up in the third floor? Because I should think you’d arrange to be downstairs in the afternoon when calls are likely to come, or else get somebody to look after the door when you decide to go up to the attic and take an afternoon nap.”

Then Hetty’s indignant tones boomed out. “No ma’am, I wasn’t taking no nap. I nevah takes no nap. An’ I wasn’t up in the third stoh’y neither. I was right in the kitchen, just liftin’ out some chicken thet was ’bout to burn, an’ I come as quick as I could.”

“Oh, yes, I suppose you’d have an alibi. You never did learn how to be respectful.”

“No ma’am, I don’t have no Al Lebi. I don’t eben know him. Ain’t been no man at all around here.”

“Well, never mind. Don’t talk forever about one thing. Just answer the door sooner the next time. Now, where are the family?”

Hetty in her haughtiest manner shut the front door definitely and then turned toward the caller. “Mistah Graeme, he has went to a special meetin’ of the presbytery. De young gemm’l’men tuk him down to de chu’tch, an’ dey’ll went after him when he’s done de meetin’. Meanwhiles dey’ll go roun’ an’ about an’ call on dere frien’s. Miss Kathie, she’s off ta her hospital work, an’ M’is Graeme, she’s settin’ in de li’bry. You can went in if ya like.” And Hetty sailed nonchalantly into the kitchen.

With a sniff of disapproval, Louella marched into the quiet atmosphere of the library.

Margaret Graeme looked up with a pleasant smile. Not quite so pleasant perhaps as that smile would have been if the person arriving had been one of her boys or her girl. But she had heard most of the dialogue between Hetty and Louella and was prepared with quite a pleasant welcome, a little bit troubled, perhaps, and worried lest Louella might stay longer than would be pleasant and that she might insist upon staying until the boys got back, and that would be altogether unfortunate. She didn’t want her sons to have anything to mar the sweetness of home. Especially if it should so turn out that they had to go back again to the horrors of war. She must be cautious. She must be quiet to be guided.
Oh God, help me!

Perhaps it was a petty trial to bring to the great God for help, and yet Margaret Graeme had learned through long years that there is no trial so petty that may not work out to unpleasantness and even sin if allowed to sway the spirit. Mrs. Graeme had learned through long years how to keep that spirit of hers placid, unruffled by little things. She was always looking to her Guide for strength.

It is a pity that Louella could not have learned from the same Teacher, for she would have been a much more welcome guest if she had.

“Well!” she snapped from the doorway. “Here you sit as quietly and contentedly as if all the world was moving in oiled grooves according to your plan. Guests may come and ring at your doorbell and pound on your knocker, and that lazy so-called servant of yours opens the door when she gets good and ready. Really, Margaret, if I were in your place I would dismiss that Hetty before the day is over. I’m sure I could get you a servant who would be far superior to her at her best, and for less money, I’ll warrant you. The trouble with Hetty is that she doesn’t know her place. You spoiled her, and she thinks she can do anything she pleases.”

“Good afternoon, Louella,” said Margaret Graeme. “Won’t you sit down by the fire? I know it isn’t a very cold day, but yet there is still a little sting of winter in the air. And throw aside your coat, won’t you? Then you won’t be chilly when you go out again. Did you walk over?”

“
Walk? Me?
Mercy no. I never walk if I can ride. I came on the bus of course. I came after my key. It worries me not to have it on hand when I want to come over here.”

“Your key?” asked Margaret. “What key, Louella?”

“Why, my key to this house. Don’t you remember you gave it to me when I was living here, and I’ve kept it ever since? And this morning Donald came over and asked me for it. Where is he? He said he had need of it. He didn’t say what for, and I told him I would come over and get it. Is he here?”

“No, Louella, he isn’t here. He went to a meeting. I don’t know when he will be back. He may stay for the evening session.”

“Well, then won’t you go upstairs and look in all his pockets and get that key for me? I haven’t much time just now, and I can’t be easy without that key. It has been in my inner consciousness so long it seems a part of me, and it gives me a feeling of belonging to a family.”

“Oh, I’m sorry, Louella. But you see we need that key. There aren’t keys enough to go around, and when we have a guest for a day or so, it is rather embarrassing not to have a key to give them. Donald has been going to ask you for it ever since you were here the other night, and he has just put it off.”

“Well, that’s ridiculous!” said Louella. “You can always get Hetty’s key. She doesn’t need a key anyway. Or you can get another made from one of yours. I insist, Margaret, that you get that key for me, and hurry up. I have other calls to make.”

“I’m sorry, Louella,” said the sweet Graeme mother firmly, “but I just wouldn’t know where to look for that key. And anyway if Donald asked you for it, he likely had a reason. Besides, Louella, you don’t need a key now that you are not staying here. Forget it, Louella, and let’s have a nice talk. Are there any pleasant people staying at the inn now?”

“No!” snapped Louella. “None that I care for. I tried playing bridge with some of them last night, but do you know Margaret, they cheated! Yes, they actually did. And then they charged me with not being honest. But of course they were strangers to me, and if I were going to stay here long I certainly should change my hotel. And that’s another reason why I want that key back. Won’t you please go upstairs and try to find that key for me?”

“Why, no, Louella, I wouldn’t like to do that when Donald went after it. There must have been some reason why he wanted it. But really, Louella, there isn’t any reason why you need a key. Especially if you are expecting to go home soon. It wouldn’t be of any use to you. By the way, Louella, you hadn’t seen Rodney since he was a very little boy until the other night. He was away in service when you were here before. Didn’t you think he looked well? And did you notice how much he looks like his father?”

“No, I hadn’t seen him in a long time, but I’m sure I couldn’t tell who he looks like. He was so horribly cross and rude to me that night I couldn’t bear to look at him. I can’t see how he could possibly look anything like his father, for Donald never looks cross at anybody. He is always placid and polite.”

“Well, I’m sorry, Louella,” said Rodney’s mother. “You just didn’t understand. It happened that someone had been in just before you arrived, and it had upset him very much, and when you asked him those questions it simply made things worse. You didn’t understand, of course, and wouldn’t have hurt him for all the world if you had known. You were always kindhearted when you understood.”

“Well what is it? Why don’t you explain? You can’t expect me to be kindhearted if I don’t understand.”

“No? Well, what is it you want explained?”

“Well, I would like to understand, first, just why this ideal engagement was broken?”

“I’m sorry, Louella, but I don’t believe I would have a right to explain those matters. You see they are not mine to explain. Isn’t it enough to say that the engagement is broken and that Rod is entirely satisfied about it, but he doesn’t like to have that girl flung in his face continually, nor to be asked questions. After all, it is his affair, and nobody else has a right to know all the details. I don’t know them myself, and I’ve never asked. Boys don’t like to have their intimate affairs talked over, and I’ve never asked him a thing. I felt that he had a right to his own privacies, and I would rather have him
give
me any confidences he wants to give than to have him feel that I have been trying to dig them out of him.”